Silence In The Library
by BeFearless438
Summary: I think libraries are beautiful. They are sanctuaries filled with never-ending shelves of books. Each book amazes someone. Anyone. The quiet is also something that baffles me. Silence which builds a protective wall around the building to refuse entry of unwanted distractions. That same wall of silence hits me as I step through the doorway of the town library, ready to be amazed.


I think libraries are beautiful. They are sanctuaries filled with never-ending shelves of books. Old books, new books, fiction books, non-fiction books, children's books, adult books, romance novels, fairytales, adventure stories. Each book amazes someone. Anyone. In anyway. It hurts my brain to try and imagine how many pages, words or even letters are in all of those books together. An infinite number.

The quiet is also something that baffles me. How everyone can be so captured up in the world of their own books that they don't even make the tiniest sound. Bar the occasional crinkle of a turning page, the air is always filled with silence. Silence which builds a protective wall around the building to refuse entry of unwanted distractions.

That same wall of silence hits me as I step through the doorway of the town library, ready to be amazed.

* * *

Not many people occupy North Finchley library. An old man sits reading this mornings newspaper. A woman and a small boy look through the children's section. A librarian saunters by me with a stack of books piled in her arms. For such a big library, I wonder why she is the only librarian I ever see working here. And for such a time as 10am, I wonder why there are not more people in the library today. A Sunday.

Knowing my way around the place, I wind through the corridors of book shelves and head towards my usual desk in the back part of the building. You will rarely find people this far back, even on a busy day. I dump my brown satchel onto the ground next to the seat and proceed to wander around the History section. History normally isn't really my thing but recently I've been interested in learning about the French Revolution after finding out my great, great grandfather was in fact French and around at the time. Running my index finger over the spines, I move along the alphabet.

"F, f, f…" I repeat to myself in a hushed voice. "Fa…fe…fr…French Revolution!" I pick out a book which titles 'The French Revolution: How It All Began' and give it a flick through. It's quite new looking and seems informative enough so I go and sit down with it.

"The French Revolution was a time of radical social and political disorder in France that had a major impact on France and the rest of Europe. In 1789..."

"Boo," a whisper came in my ear and I yelped, jumping in my seat. The same voice chuckled and I turned around slowly, breathing heavily. Edmund Pevensie. The most mischievous, moody, mysterious…magnificent boy I've ever met. Sometimes I'd even go as far as calling him my best friend.

"Ed! You idiot!" I shout, leaping up and launching towards the boy shaking with laughter, before whacking him repeatedly on the arm. "You complete and utter monster!" Each hit accentuates each word. So much for silence in the library.

Edmund's face was turning red, his eyes dancing with mirth. Deep chortles escape his lips and I can't help but let out a giggle of my own accord. It was quite hilarious. I change my earlier thought; the library air is always quiet…until Edmund enters.

Soon we were both laughing so hard we could barley stand and I am surprised we haven't been thrown out already.

"Shh…shh…shhh…" Each hush was broken up with my laughter. I finally manage to calm down convincing myself I will be banished from my favourite library if we continue to make such a ruckus. Edmund rolls around on the floor, hugging his tummy and not making an effort to settle down. "Ed, be quiet!" I whisper, my giggles still trying to escape. "Ed!" I bite my lip to keep them in.

Eventually his howling laughter dies away.

His breathing is still irregular and he heaves a huge sigh, "My stomach hurts!" he whines but smiles all the same. His arms still clutch his belly.

"No wonder!" I exclaim but make sure to keep my voice low.

"And my arm too," he starts to rub it and rolls up his shirt sleeve to inspect it. "I never knew you could pack a good punch!" He says - loudly I might add - with his eyes wide and examining the red blotches on his left arm. He lifts his gaze to me.

"Oh do be quieter, Edmund," I sigh, holding my hand out to him. Taking it, he pulls himself up off the library carpet and swipes at his trousers letting the dust fall from them. "I don't fancy being kicked out of here."

"And on your birthday none the less!" he cries. He's never going to learn.

I sigh again and roll my eyes, "Ed, you must remember to lower your voice sometimes. And you know how I feel about my birthday," I frown. Edmund smirks. Taking both my hands he starts to swing our arms from side to side until I smile. Its something he's always done to me whenever I'm upset and frowning. The corners of my lips start to lift up and in no time at all I've a huge smile on my face. Works every time. He grins - proud of himself - and drops my hands.

"How did you find me?" Silly question, of course. Edmund always knows where I am.

"Well it's the fifteenth of July! Where else would you be?!" he exclaims. Now I smirk. Its common knowledge that I'm not very fond of my birthday. Growing up…I don't let myself think about it. No matter what I've always hated the day. Plus, being fussed over isn't really my thing. But what isn't common knowledge is where I come on my birthday to escape it. Edmund is the only one who knows. Except maybe my mother, who I think knows but won't hassle me about it. She's always been the "everybody deserves to do what _they _want to do on their birthday" type. Although, that doesn't stop her inviting people round every year to have a special birthday dinner for me against my protests. Evidently, she's also always loved playing host.

"Come on! It's a special one! Sixteen years old!" Edmund says as I turn away and start browsing the shelves again, hoping that maybe he would just leave it be. "I'm not going to just leave it be, Cora."

Maybe not.

"I know, Ed, but that's the thing! I'm sixteen now. And that means new responsibilities that I don't think I'm ready for! The real world…it's such a scary place. When we were kids we didn't have to worry about anything! Don't you remember, Ed?" I trail my finger along the books, this time my mind not on the titles. "We used to have so much fun just climbing a tree or chasing each other around and now…it's different. And I can't handle different. It's just…as every day goes by, I'm leaving another little bit of my childhood - all of that innocence - behind me. I used to believe in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. I used to trust people and never doubt things. I had hope and faith. And now, it seems, even that's drifting away. Like I'm forgetting." I can feel myself getting worked up but it feels so good to finally get it all off my chest that I keep going. "Ed, I don't want to grow up. I don't want to leave it all behind. Edmund what if I forg-" before I can finish I feel something cold hit my neck and I look down.

A beautiful, ornate, heart-shaped locket hangs around my throat on a chain. It's gold. Not the brightest of golds, a bit dull and worn, but the most beautiful gold I've ever seen.

"You don't have to leave anything behind. Your childhood, your innocence, your hope and your faith. It's all locked up inside this heart and it will stay with you forever," Edmund whispers in my ear. My breathing hitches. His whisper seems magical, his breath comforting. My heart starts beating erratically. "And for as long as I live, I will never let you forget."

I turn around slowly to see his face. His beautiful face. There's a few still moments where my mind is blank before I can't take in anymore and jolt forwards, crushing him in a hug. My face hides in the crook of his neck.

"Happy Birthday, Cora," he whispers finally, into my hair. I want to cry. How can one person be so sweet?

My mind is a bit muddled but I manage to get out "Thank you, Edmund. Thank you so, so much."

**Hi! Did you like it? It's my first story here on fan fiction. Well, it's actually a one-shot BUT I was hoping to make it into a full story if anyone's interested? Yeah, so let me know and I'd really love to hear what you thought of it! I'm quite new to this writing thing so I'd very much appreciate it if I got some criticism! (Bet you've never heard anyone say that! :p)**


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